In everything. “Slowly but surely, yeah,” Obie agrees.
“Does he actually like bowling? Or does he mainly come because you do?”
“The latter, I think,” Obie admits. “But he does enjoy the company.”
“Clearly,” Maggie says, watching as Chester and Trevor drag a protesting Sasha over to the front desk to talk with Harper. Her eyes flicker back to Obie. “Any news from the war front?”
Obie’s smile wavers. Much as he enjoys having Maggie out from under the Chain’s thumb, he hates how it happened—and that she’s a fugitive like the rest of them now. “Nothing yet. The Conspiracy Fam is reanalyzing all of their data from this new perspective, and apparently, a lot of things are falling into place.”
Maggie’s lips press together. “Frankly, I’d almost hoped thingswouldn’tfall into place, but…”
“Yeah. You’re telling me.” Obie shoots Maggie a sideways glance. “Have you talked to Bryant at all?”
Almost imperceptibly, Maggie flinches. “Not really,” she says shortly, which Obie takes to mean that Maggie is avoiding her soul-exchanged ex-hunter at all costs. “There’s really no reason to.”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Obie agrees quietly. “But you two went through something really traumatic together. It might help to talk to someone who had the same experience, you know?”
Decisively, Maggie steps away. “Maybe someday,” she says briskly, glancing up at the clock. “Almost closing time. I’m going to see if I canhit another few frames before Nack Bar George chases me out with his feather duster.”
Wincing, Obie lets the topic drop. “Let’s see if you can break our losing streak.”
“One can only hope.” Maggie raises her eyebrows at Chester as he jogs back towards them. “Twins are still waylaid?”
“Trevor is attempting to wingman for Sasha,” Chester confirms. “But it’s, ah, disproportionately clear that he doesn’t have any ideahowto wingman. I couldn’t handle the secondhand embarrassment anymore.”
Obie snorts. “That’s Trevor for you,” he says, reaching out to take Chester’s hand. “You ready to head home, puppy? We just have one stop to make first.”
Chester tilts his head to one side, intrigued. “A stop to make? At ten p.m.?”
“Yep.” Obie turns back to Maggie, clapping her on the shoulder. “Hit some strikes for us, Mags. Make the alley proud.”
“I’ll do my best,” Maggie says, and she and Chester smile at each other before she strides away.
Obie and Chester make their rounds before heading out for the night, as they always do. Little Timmy Thorne runs up to give Chester a goodbye hug, the McGuire brothers once again attempt to wheedle Chester into going hiking with them, Nack Bar George gives them some mozzarella sticks for the road with a wink?—
Because Chester isn’t just Obie’s boyfriend anymore. He’s part of the Redwater Bowl family now, one of many families Chester has gained over the past few weeks.
With a final wave at the front desk, where a bemused Harper is still talking with an overeager Trevor and a mortified Sasha, Obie tugs Chester out into the parking lot, the early October air crisp and cool around them. “You ready?” Obie asks, snapping open a rift not tenfeet away from where Chester first approached Obie with a pre-cast binding spell all those months ago.
“Always,” Chester confirms, squeezing Obie’s palm, and they step through side by side.
Obie releases Chester’s hand once they’re firmly on the hardwood floor, closing the rift behind them and clicking the lights on. Chester surveys the room slowly, his eyebrows creeping up. “Nice,” he says, wandering over to peek down the hallway. “This is one of your apartments on the east side, right?”
Obie smiles. “You remembered.”
“Of course. I like seeing what you do with all your properties,” Chester says, furrowing his eyebrows at the couches and lamps already arranged in the living room. “But it looks like it’s already prepared for someone to move in.”
“Yeah.” Obie squares his shoulders, meeting Chester’s eyes. “You.”
Chester goes still. “What?”
Obie sweeps his arm around, encompassing the full two-bedroom apartment. “The legality was a bit convoluted, but basically, I bought this apartment from myself and put your name on the deed, so there’s no rent. Maintenance, utilities, and taxes are covered, just like in the rest of my apartments. This place belongs to you now.”
“But…” Chester takes a measured step backward, unease lining his face. “I don’t understand. Do you—do you not want me living with you anymore?”
Obie’s eyes widen. “What? No,” he says, reaching out to grab Chester’s hands. “Chester, I want you living with me until the end of time, possibly longer. I’m not kicking you out.”
Chester’s shoulders relax minutely, but his eyebrows are still pulled together. “I’m… confused, then. Why are you giving me an apartment?”
